


Keep no record of wrongs.

by ThePerk42



Category: The Devil All the Time (2020)
Genre: Gen, Poverty, Raising children, References to gun violence (not graphic), References to non-con (not graphic), Religious Guilt, Religious References, Sibling affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26665690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePerk42/pseuds/ThePerk42
Summary: Arvin doesn’t find Lenora in the shed that day, instead, she’s gone missing. Left with no choice but to find her, Arvin makes only the decisions that he thinks he can. They’ve both experienced things that no Preacher would forgive, and now they have to make a decision about what they’re going to do next.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Keep no record of wrongs.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was based entirely off of the movie - I have not read the book, so my apologies if there are some inaccuracies!

Now.

Lenora is in the kitchen measuring flour for a cake. A cake they really shouldn’t be wasting money on, tight as money is, but the girls are turning five this year and it wouldn’t be right to miss the opportunity to celebrate. She carefully drags the blunt side of a butter knife across the top of the measuring cup, letting the excess flower drop back into the large canister that never seems to be full. Waste not, want not. She uses her elbow to brush a strand of hair out of her face – the summer heat is thick in Hiawassee today and everything that touches her seems to make her sweat even though it’s not yet 8am. She hears Arvin coming out of the bedroom and straightens to watch him enter the kitchen.

He’s dressed for work, wearing his old pair of coveralls and beat up boots. He gives her a sideways grin and reaches for the coffee pot that she left on the counter, half full. “It’s gonna be cold by now,” she warns him, “you slept late.”

“I know,” he shrugs, “I’ll take it to go.” He doesn’t say much – he never does these days. Lenora wipes her hands on her apron and squats down to get the thermos out of the cabinet for him. She gestures for him to pass her the coffee and so he does, watches her pour the entirety of the percolator into his thermos.

“You’ll be home tonight for dinner, right?” He looks at her quizzically for a moment. “It’s the girls’ birthday,” she whispers, not wanting them to hear from their bedroom and think he forgot.

Then he cracks a smile like he can’t hold it in anymore. “Of course I’ll be home for dinner. I just have to stop on the way home to pick up their gifts.”

Now it’s Lenora’s turn to frown. “You know we can’t afford that. I feel guilty enough as it is baking this cake.” Something inside of her chest makes her feel like crying but instead she sucks in a steady breath.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” he tells her, taking the thermos from her and walking towards the door. “And that cake’s gonna be so good, it’ll be worth it.” He leaves then, without really saying goodbye, as he often does, and she goes back to baking her cake. It’s a Saturday, so the girls likely won’t be up for another hour or so. That’ll give her time to finish the cake and put it up on top of the icebox where they won’t see it. It’s going to be like the cakes Grandma used to make – denser and with less sweetness because sugar is expensive (particularly in these small towns that Arvin seems to favour) – but there will be _two_ birthday candles instead of one for her twins. She rolls her shoulders back and listens to the quiet of the house for a moment, pining for her grandmother and the feeling of being a child and then refocuses on the cake.

That night, Arvin does come home on time. He’s filthy and covered in grease from working under a car all day, but the girls run up to him for hugs none-the-less. Ruth wraps her arm around one leg while Sara holds her arms up to be lifted. “Well hello,” he says, struggling to greet them both adequately while juggling the packages and thermos in his arms. Lenora rushes over to take the things from him so that he can hug the girls. She’ll have to give them a bath now that they’re all covered in engine grease but it’s worth it to see how much they love Arvin. “I heard it was somebody’s birthday today?” he asks, setting Sara down.

“Ours!” The girls shout in unison, jumping once with excitement. Their movement is enough to wake the cat, Juniper, and send her shooting out the door. She likes being outside more often, anyways, so Lenora just shrugs and shuts the screen door behind her.

Dinner isn’t an elaborate affair. Arvin washes his face and changes into cleaner clothes and Lenora bought a roast (albeit not a very good one), so it feels a little like Sunday dinner, but the girls are so excited to be able to celebrate with Arvin there that it doesn’t matter how fancy things are. He’s usually not home in time to eat with the family except on Sundays, and Lenora knows he would have had to forgo some extra work to be home on time tonight, so she reaches across the table to squeeze his hand as a way to say thank you. The birthday cake tastes exactly like she thought it would – dense and barely sweetened, but nostalgic all the same. The girls don’t seem perturbed by the lack of sugar and are overjoyed when Arvin pulls out their gifts. They each get a rectangular package, about the size of a shoebox, wrapped in brown paper. “Happy birthday,” he tells them, looking slightly embarrassed. “I hope you like them.”

“They’ll love them,” Lenora says, even though she doesn’t know what they are. The girls have never received a birthday present before, not really. Last year Lenora knitted them scarves, but that was more of a need – the mountains can get cold in the winter and walking around town could get mighty uncomfortable without the proper clothing. The girls open their packages slowly, with a sense of reverence. Peeling away the brown paper wrapping, they reveal small wooden boxes with cloth dolls inside, protected with shredded paper to keep them in place. Their faces are painted on with care and dresses sewn, likely, from scraps of a fabric that had been used to make someone else’s dress. Their hair – each the colour of the recipient’s hair – is made of yarn and done in the style that the girls prefer. Ruth’s is red and back in two braids and Sara’s is brown and brushed straight around the doll’s shoulders. Lenora sucks in a breath of shocked air.

“Arvin,” she murmurs, still moved by the gifts that he clearly put great thought into. “Where did you get those? They must have cost a fortune.”

Arvin shrugs and shakes his head. “Mm-mm,” he says, reaching over to help Ruth get her doll out of the box. “George Reets? He needed his engine looked at and his wife makes them in her spare time and takes them to Helen to sell in the summer. I asked him if I could get two of them in exchange for looking at the truck.” That must have been why he was working all that extra time recently, he had to make up for giving his time away for cloth dolls to ensure the family still had money to eat.

Rather than saying something about working himself into an early grave, Lenora tries to keep things light. “She goes all the way to Helen?” It’s a long way to go, even in a car that works. And George doesn’t know squat about cars – he’s already been to Arvin’s shop four times this year.

“I didn’t really care about that part,” he says, but not rudely. “Do you like them?” he asks the girls, who have been staring, slack-jawed, at their gifts since opening them.

“Yes!” they finally say in unison. “Thank you, Papa! Can we go play with them?”

“Go on,” Lenora says. “I’ll clean up.” It’s not often they have such nice brown paper in the house. She wonders if she can save any of it.

Arvin sits back in his chair and listens for the girls to go into their room. The door shuts quietly, and giggling can be heard almost immediately after. “We’re going to have to tell them that I’m not their daddy soon. If we wait much longer, it won’t make sense.”

Lenora feels her gut twist. She knows it’s not fair to ask Arvin to keep playing the role of the girls’ father – he will provide for them just as well when they know he’s their uncle. But she’s nervous about what the people in town would say if they knew. There’s already talk – she’s heard it in the general store when other ladies don’t think she’s around. They whisper about how Arvin doesn’t seem like a very good husband – he never shows affection when they’re out in town and while he provides for the family like everyone else does, there’s murmurs that he’s having an _affair._ In a quiet, tiny, southern Baptist town, an affair is one of the worst sins one can be caught committing. He tries, he really does, to make their family appear seamless but Lenora is his sister and nothing’s gonna change that. Lenora knows he would never do anything to risk their cover, like being with another woman, but if they tell the girls that he’s not actually their father, they might say something without realizing the damage they could cause. With them starting school in a few short months, she doesn’t know if they can risk telling them yet. She wants to wait until they are older and understand the risk of speaking out.

She must have been thinking for a while because she catches Arvin looking at her weird. “You okay?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

“I don’t think it’s time yet,” she tells him, rising from her chair. “I don’t think they could keep it a secret.”

Arvin shrugs his shoulders. “Okay. Want me to do the dishes?”

“It’s okay,” she says, grabbing the plates – scraped clean of any cake – and walking to the kitchen. “You want a beer?”

“I won’t say no,” he murmurs. He’s gets up from the table and walks over to the couch. It’s a dilapidated old thing. Lenora covered it with some old plaid fabric she got at a church rummage sale a while back, but there’s still spots where bulges of stuffing are pushing through the original upholstery. Arvin sits on it, just the same, puts his feet on the coffee table and leans his head back against the wall. After a moment, Lenora bumps the back of his hand with a cool beer bottle. It’s the last one in the fridge, Arvin knows, a gift from the McKinnons for watching their horses when they went out of town last month. He’ll savour it while he still can. He takes the bottle from Lenora and fiddles in his breast pocket for a cigarette. Lenora bumps his knee with her own.

“You know I don’t like it when you smoke inside. I can’t get that smell out of anything.”

He sighs loudly but gets off the couch. “Alright,” he says, heading for the front door. “Come sit with me when you’re done?” She nods at him and watches him go outside.

It doesn’t take her long to finish washing the dishes. She dries them for good measure because in the humidity here they’d take days to fully dry. After putting them away, she goes outside to join Arvin. There’s still a little beer left in the bottle and he offers it to her, even though he knows she won’t have any, just like the last five bottles that he drank all on his own. “I’m thinking of taking the girls down to the McKinnon’s farm tomorrow after church to see if they can ride for a bit. They’d like that I think.”

“They did love petting the horses,” she agrees, picking at a spot on her skirt. “That’d be real nice. And it’ll give me time to do some laundry.”

“You should come with us,” he tells her, finishing the last of the beer.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do around here,” she argues.

He pins her with a strange look, like he’s worried and also sad. “I know you, do,” he says. “But George asked me the other day if everything was alright between us. He says we’d seemed distant recently. I don’t need anyone wondering about things. So I think it would be good if you came with us. The McKinnon’s are _the_ town gossips, and if they see us looking like a happy family, well…everyone else will know real soon.”

Lenora sighs sadly. Arvin had never been worried about what anyone thought in the past. When they were growing up and people would call him a “sister-fucker” or talk about how his daddy died in sin, he never gave them a second thought. So it’s weird to hear him talk about town gossips and getting them onside. He’s only ever cared about Lenora and how she felt. He knows that the charade of a father for the girls is so important to her – she needs to go to church and walk around town without shame, and this is the one way he can offer them that protection.

“That makes sense,” she tells him, adjusting the sleeve of her dress. “I’ll go with y’all tomorrow after church. I’m sorry you got drawn into all of this.”

Arvin looks at her again, with that strange sad/worried look. “Don’t you ever say that,” he tells her, looking hardened, “don’t you ever apologize to me for this life we have. I thank God every day that I found you when I did. I can’t imagine what might have happened to you if I hadn’t.” He takes her hand and squeezes it tightly between his, “I messed up back then, Lenora,” he sucks in a breath of air, “but I’m gonna do whatever it takes, for the rest of my life, to make things right for you and the girls. I promise you that.” Lenora can’t think of what to say in response and so she looks out over the front yard and watches the sunset over the lip of the mountains.

_Then._

_When they come home from church_ that _Sunday, Lenora’s gone. She hasn’t left a note or anything, but a quick check in her dresser drawer tells Arvin that she’s gone somewhere and doesn’t have any plans of coming back. Her clothes are almost all gone, except for that nice dress that Grandma bought her second hand for a birthday present. Most telling, though, is the missing bible from her nightstand. If she’s taken it with her, that means she’s gone for good, and not just to her mama’s graveside. Grandma is heartbroken, but in her usual way doesn’t show it much other than a red face and few tears. Arvin takes it upon himself to go down to the local station and report Lenora as missing, but they give him the runaround. Saying she probably went off with a boy or something._

_“Lenora’s not like that,” he tells them, insisting what he knows is true – his sister would never be such a fool to run off with a boy. She would think God would punish her for being lustful. Besides, there’s only one male that Arvin has seen her spending time with recently and he’s not likely to run off with anyone any time soon. At the thought of Reverend Teagardin, Arvin’s heart stops short. He’s not sure what the preacher has to do with Lenora’s absence, but he knows he’s the only person who could have anything to do with it. The police won’t listen to him, so eventually he turns heel and leaves the station, knowing he has to deal with this himself._

_With Lenora missing, he doesn’t have much time. He gives himself three days – three days only – to watch the Reverend. He doesn’t need more than a day. Arvin knows he shouldn’t skip out on work on Monday, he needs the money, but he needs to know what the preacher is up to more than he needs a day’s wages. What he sees when he follows the man makes him sick to his stomach. He’s in a car with a young girl – red hair tumbling straight down her shoulders – and while Arvin can’t see what they’re up to in the back seat, she gets out and moves like she’s tender between her legs. More telling, though, is when the Reverend throws the girl’s underpants out the side of the vehicle. Arvin waits for the preacher to drive away and then he goes to where the underpants are on the ground and pockets them. He’s not sure what he’s going to do with them, but he knows that they will play a role in finding his missing sister._

_Later than night, when he follows the Reverend home, he sees his wife – quiet but always done up like she’s going into the city for something. She gets down on her knees between his legs and then she takes him into her mouth. It’s something Arvin’s never seen done before, but he’s heard the boys talking about it. He knows his daddy would tell him it was ungodly to act in that way, sinful to have sexual relations that were for nothing more than to satiate lust. And he wonders, for only a split second, why the Reverend would act in a way that was so ungodly. But then he shakes himself – he knew from the moment he met the preacher, and heard his hurtful comments about Grandma’s chicken livers, that he wasn’t a godly man, but someone taking up the mantle for some sense of personal prestige. He’s a pervert, that’s what he is, and he’s the only one who can tell Arvin where his sister’s gone._

_He takes Tuesday off of work, too, so that he can visit the Reverend when no one else is in the church. He wars his jean jacket and baseball cap so that, hopefully, his identity won’t be given away right off the hop. He walks into the church and is grateful to see the preacher facing the front. Arvin’s hands shake on his daddy’s gun – he’s never killed anyone in his life and he doesn’t want to start now, but he’ll do what he has to to find his sister. He won’t stop until he knows where this preacher put her. He knows that means he might have to kill the preacher in the end, and so he left a note with almost all of his money on Grandma’s bedside table. He can’t tell her where he’s going or what he’s doing, but hopefully the note will give her a little more closure than Lenora’s unexplained disappearance. Hopefully she understands that sometimes a man has to do what he has to do, and hopefully Uncle Earskell will take good care of her like he promised. Arvin’s heart aches at the thought of never seeing his family again, but he feels like he doesn’t have a choice._

_He’s not sure exactly what he’s going to say to the preacher, and so when the words come out of his mouth, unbidden, they surprise even him. The exchange happens so quickly, in Arvin’s mind. His hands shake on the gun, but when he rises and points it at the preacher’s chest, his voice is steady. “Where’d you put my sister? What’d you do to her?”_ God, _he prays, even though it’s not in his nature anymore,_ please let her be alive.

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s a real shame she left, though. So young.”_

_“Don’t lie to me!” Arvin yells loudly, his voice echoing in the small and empty space of the church. “Tell me where she is or I swear,” he doesn’t have to finish. He uses his shaking hand to cock the gun and points it squarely at the preacher._

_Reverend Teagardin holds up his hands, like he’s surrendering, and then closes them into fists. “She ran away,” he finally says. “She told me she was pregnant and she was so ashamed of whoring herself –“_

_Arvin cuts him off with a shout. “Don’t you talk about her like that! That’s bullshit.”_

_“Language,” the preacher says. Condescending, even when he’s about to die._

_“Tell me where she is,” Arvin gestures aggressively with the gun, enraged at the hurtful words the man is using. “Tell me what you did to her.”_

_“She ran away, like I told you. I think she went north. Didn’t want to shame your grandma with her bastard child.”_

_Arvin wants to tackle him. He wants to beat his face in just like those boys that taunted Lenora. It seems like a lifetime ago that he had to deal with them, but this is real life now, and Lenora deserves justice for what was done to her. So Arvin stands still, and frowns. The preacher watches him for a moment, waiting to see what will happen. It seems that time slows down and speeds up all at once when Arvin pulls the trigger, the bullets (three of them) entering the preacher’s chest. The man falls to the ground and makes a weird gurgling noise, but Arvin doesn’t have time to stick around and study the process of dying by gunshot wound. He finds the bullet casings – only two of them – and they burn his fingers when he picks them up. He hisses and drops one but finds it again and drops it into his jacket pocket. Hopefully no-one else will find the missing third casing, either. He hastily throws the underwear onto the preacher’s chest and flees, eager to find his errant sister._

Now.

Lenora wakes earlier than the rest of the family, as usual. It’s Sunday, and it’s meant to be the Lord’s day of rest, but her family still needs to eat. She pulls a sweater on over her nightgown and tiptoes outside to the chicken coop. There will hopefully be a few eggs for breakfast this morning. After startling the chickens (by accident) she scoops up four generously sized eggs and sets them gently in her basket. She’s turning to go inside when she notices a glint of red in the morning sun. Squatting down, she sees that the tomato plant has finally grown a ripened, red, juicy tomato. They’ve been plagued by pests this year, and she’s not sure how this one escaped the fat, ugly worms, but she’s grateful. She plucks it off the vine and sets it, ever so gently, into the basket with the eggs.

Back in the house, she puts the percolator on for coffee. It’s a luxury, really, to drink coffee most days. But it’s something that Arvin seems to enjoy and there’s so little in life that he does just for him, she can’t begrudge him the minor expense. While the water boils, she cuts the last of the bread loaf into thin slices and drops them into the frying pan, listens to the splat as they land on the thin sheen of fat she used to grease the pan. She’s grateful for the chickens, otherwise they would have to go without any sort of protein most days. She’s cracking the eggs into a bowl when she hears Arvin’s shuffling feet behind her. “Good morning,” she says, without turning to look at him. He walks to the fridge and opens it, likely to get out the milk.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still gruff from sleep.

“We have a tomato!” she tells him brightly, leaving the eggs for a moment to show off the vegetable. It’s not large, barely the size of her closed fist, but big enough that they can all have a slice with breakfast.

“Worms didn’t get that one?” he asks, pouring a minuscule amount of milk into a mug for her coffee. There’s not much left and the milkman won’t be by until tomorrow, so he leaves the rest for the girls and has his coffee black.

“No,” she smiles, happier than she should be about a tomato. “Doesn’t it look so good?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, pouring coffee for the both of them. He leans back against the stove and sips from his mug. He’s still in his pyjamas and the sun is rising outside. In this moment, Lenora feels like she didn’t genuinely ruin both of their lives. She reaches over to grab her coffee mug and takes a sip before a sob grabs at her throat. Arvin looks down at his coffee, steaming lazily in the shaft of sunlight passing by. “I’d better go get the girls up, or we’ll be late.” She nods and he leaves her in the kitchen to finish making breakfast.

After they’ve eaten and the girls are dressed, she leaves them in their room to play with their new dolls while she dresses for church. Arvin is waiting patiently in the front room – he’s always the first one ready to leave on Sundays even though he likes church the least out of all of them. She reaches into the closet and pulls out a blue and white checkered dress. She’s had it for at least six years, and time hasn’t been overly kind to it, but it’s still one of the nicest things she owns. There’re patches on it where Grandma had to fix it. Lenora traces over the yellow butterfly patch that her grandmother so artfully attached near the hem to cover up a hole that got torn in the dress when she and Arvin had a wrestling match. She fingers the yellow stitching and compares it to the dots of random coloured thread that Lenora has used to mend the dress over the years. She’s not as skilled as her grandma, but it works.

She pulls the dress on over her head and brushes her hair. There’s a small mirror over the dresser in the bedroom and she looks at herself sternly. She wonders, if she hadn’t made so many mistakes and ruined Arvin’s life, would any man have ever loved her enough to actually take her for a wife? She was such a fool in her youth that any man who claimed to be pious probably could have stolen her heart, but with her plain looks, who would have wanted her? She twirls her hair around her finger and touches her collar bone, wondering what her life would be like if she had a husband who loved her as a wife and not as a sister. She is grateful for everything Arvin has given her, but that doesn’t keep her from wondering. A knock on the door pulls her out of her reverie. “Are you ready?” Arvin asks. “If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late.” He hates being late, being the centre of attention when they sneak into the back of the church and huddle in a pew that doesn’t have enough room for the four of them.

Lenora bolts away from the dresser and picks up her bible off the nightstand. When she opens the door, Arvin is immediately on the other side. “Ready,” she says, smiling at him. “Let’s go!”

They could drive to church, but it’s a short enough walk and it’s a good way for the girls to burn off some energy before they have to sit still during the sermon. Arvin carries Lenora’s bible for her so that she can hold a hand of each of the girls. There is a small argument before they leave because the girls want to bring their dolls to church, but Arvin makes it clear that there will be no horses in the afternoon if they don’t do what their mother says.

The walk to church takes about twenty minutes and the girls are only sullen for the first few. After that, they release their mother’s hands and run ahead of their guardians, dancing and kicking up dust from the dirt road. Lenora takes her bible back and doesn’t say anything to Arvin. They spend a lot of time in silence, the two of them. She wonders what he’s thinking, but doesn’t ask because it doesn’t seem fair to take one of the few things he has that is just his. About halfway to the church, though, he speaks up. “You’re still coming with us to the farm after, right?”

“That’s the plan,” she says, waving at the girls to move to the side of the road for a car to pass by. “Why?”

“Just wondering why you wore that nice dress to go see some horses, is all.”

She feels like smacking her own forehead. She wasn’t thinking this morning when she got dressed. “I didn’t think,” she says. “I’ll still come, though. I’ll just have to be careful.”

“Mhm,” is all he says.

The sermon is about the importance of listening to Lord for guidance and the congregation reads Hebrews 12 together. Lenora has always loved this passage; it reminds her that if she follows the Lord’s path, she will be walking in faith rather than sin, which is a constant question at the back of her mind. She mouths the words with relish as the pastor speaks, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” Lenora looks over at Arvin, over the heads of Ruth and Sara, and sees that he looks far away, like he’s thinking about the next engine he’s going to fix. She turns back to the lord and wonders about the preacher’s decision to deliver this message – she feels that God will always guiding her in the right direction but that people – men – will use the Lord to manipulate people. It’s happened to her more than enough times. She wonders what the preacher means when he says, “Man was made in God’s image and so the Lord speaks through him.” But she says amen in the all the right places and presses her fingertips into her bible and remembers her mother’s adoration of the Lord. After what happened with Reverend Teagardin, she thought for a while about distancing herself from the Lord, but truly, God was her strongest connection to her mother and that – her tether to her mother – was what brought her the most strength after.

Once the sermon is over, they wait in line to say their goodbyes and thank yous to the preacher. He’s newer in town, but older and likely has been preaching for quite some time. His wife and teenage daughter stand with him at the entrance to the church where he shakes everyone’s hands. While they’re waiting in line to talk to him, Arvin surreptitiously slips his arm around Lenora’s waist while he holds Ruth’s hand with his free one. It’s not a usual move for him, but given what both she and Arvin have heard from others in town recently, it’s likely a good idea. It feels strange after so much time, but not uncomfortable to have his weight against her side.

When they decided about the role that Arvin would play – that of the girls’ father and Lenora’s husband – before arriving in Hiawassee, it was like the nature of their genuine relationship changed. Arvin, who had been so free with hugs and comforting touches in the past, seemed to suddenly pull away – at least physically – from his sister. He had continued to offer her comfort through her pregnancy and after, but there was a distance between them that Lenora had never known before. When they had been younger, there had been wrestling matches, games of tag, and hugs. But it was like a switch had suddenly turned off and he avoided being in her space. Even though they shared a bedroom, the same way that they had as kids, with two single beds on each side – when she reached across the space for his hand in the dark of the night, he never responded in kind like he had when they were younger. She stopped trying over a year ago.

So Arvin’s physical closeness isn’t unusual when she thinks about their youth, but it feels out of place in this new life they have built for themselves. Out of place, but not unwelcome. She leans into his side and thanks the preacher for his sermon. The girls are eagerly pulling on Lenora’s skirt, excited to see the horses at the McKinnon’s farm. “Hold up,” Arvin tells them, “I haven’t even asked Bill, yet.”

He leaves Lenora and the girls talking to another young mother, Jenny France who is 8 months pregnant and looks ready to pop. Bill McKinnon is talking to George about something over by George’s truck. “How’s she running?” Arvin asks, walking up to the pair.

George smiles at him. The man is about 20 years older than Arvin, but has always treated him as an equal – Arvin likes that about him. “Good as new – you did me a right favour. How’d the girls like them dolls?”

Arvin brushes his hair back from his face. “I’d say you did me the favour – they couldn’t get enough of them.”

“Beth knows what she’s doing, alright,” George says, shining with pride for his wife. “What can I do for you son?”

“Actually, Bill, I was wondering if I could bring the girls over for a ride on the horses today? Would that be alright?”

“Will the missus be coming?”

Arvin swallows. Five years and counting and he still can’t get used to thinking of Lenora as his wife. “Yes sir.”

“I’ve told you, don’t call me sir. Anne’s been mighty lonely since she broke her leg – bring Lenora over to keep her company, and you’ve got yourself a deal. You wanna come straight over?”

“Was just thinking we’d go home and get the truck.”

“Come back with me,” Bill says. “There’s room in the car for all of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course! Stay for supper and then I’ll get Gene to give you a lift home.” Gene is the farmhand who lives in a barn on the McKinnon’s farm. Arvin still hasn’t figured out how the McKinnon’s are able to afford a farmhand out here. Even though they’re clearly the wealthiest family in town, everyone in Hiawassee is poor.

“I’ll go get the girls,” Arvin says, nodding goodbye to George.

The twins are shaking with excitement to sit in Bill’s car. He’s got leather seats that are new and shiny unlike the cracked ones in Arvin’s truck. Lenora’s trying to calm them down in the back seat while Bill talks to Arvin about some kind of business on the farm. “Been struggling to keep up with the workload,” he’s saying, and Arvin murmurs some sort of assent. “Gene’s not as young as he used to be and I sure ain’t either. With James up and leaving us for college, son of a bitch, we’re high a dry.” Lenora winces at the swear word, particularly when she sees both Ruth’s and Sara’s eyes go wide. They’re careful about watching their language around the girls. She doesn’t think Arvin cares much, but she told him it was important to her and so he’s been respectful of her wishes and avoids using any inappropriate language – at least when he’s at home.

“I could free myself up some evenings if you’re really hurting,” Arvin offers. He chooses his own hours at the auto shop, so if he can earn some extra cash helping out at the McKinnon farm, it makes sense that he would try.

“I’ll keep that in mind, son, but I don’t want to take you away from your family. If you know of anyone else, or if anything comes to mind, you’ll let me know.”

“Mhm, sure will.”

They arrive at the farm shortly after that and the girls tumble out of the back seat of the car with enthusiasm. “Anne’ll be in the sitting room,” Bill says to Lenora, effectively dismissing her. “She’ll be mighty glad to have some company, that’s for sure.”

“I just wish I’d thought to bring something for her,” Lenora pines.

“Don’t you worry about that. She’ll be plenty grateful for your time, Mrs. Willoughby.”

Lenora nods and waves goodbye to the girls who are already walking towards the paddock, where a chestnut gelding is waiting at a trough. Arvin waves goodbye to her as well and turns to follow after the girls. Lenora tries not be frustrated, Anne is a kind woman and Lenora has no qualms with keeping her company, but she could be at home washing the linens, which she already put off for a full week. She could be weeding the garden while Arvin mowed the lawn, but instead she’s stepping into the stuffy and hot front room of the McKinnon’s house and preparing everything she will say so that Anne only gossips about the right things. Before she does that, though, she takes a deep breath and reminds herself that she is living the Lord’s plan, and if this is where He wants her to be, this is where she’ll be.

“Mrs. McKinnon?” Lenora calls, closing the screen door behind herself. “Mr. McKinnon said you were resting in here?”

“I’m in the sitting room honey.” Anne is resting on the sofa, her broken leg up on a stool and swathed in the thick white cast that’s been on it for almost a month now. “What brings you over here, sweet thing?” Anne gestures for Lenora to sit on the armchair across from her, and Lenora does so, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt and feeling awfully out of the place in the finely decorated sitting room.

“Arvin asked to bring the girls over for a horseback ride and Mr. McKinnon said you might enjoy the company.”

“And he was so right. Do you want some sweet tea?”

“Can I get you some?” Lenora asks, rising off her chair.

“Ain’t you a peach. That’d be fine, honey.”

Lenora’s only been to the McKinnon’s house once, but she remembers the way to the kitchen. She fumbles around looking for some glasses and then pulls them from the cabinet. The sweet tea is in the refrigerator and it’s frosty cold when she takes it out. She pours two glasses and heads back to the sitting room to find that Anne has resituated herself on the sofa. “Tell me,” Anne says, taking the glass from Lenora, “how was the sermon today?”

“It was interesting,” Lenora says honestly. She takes a sip of the sweet tea and tries not to make a face at just how much sugar is in it. She can’t imagine having so much sugar that you could waste it like that in your tea. “I often think about what my mama would say in church, how she might take the message. I didn’t know her at all, I was a just a baby when she passed, but my grandma did a good job of keeping her memory alive.”

Anne looks at her oddly for a moment and then breathes in deeply. “It is so sad that both you and Arvin were orphaned at such young ages. No hide nor hair of your kin, hmm?” She takes a sip of her drink and sets it down on the coffee table. Lenora watches a bead of sweat trickle down the side of the glass and wonders how they get the dishes to look so spotless. Even when she hand-dries everything, she always seems to get spots on them.

“That’s right, ma’am,” she finally remembers to answer Anne’s question. “Arvin lost his mommy and daddy when he was real young, too. We’ve been close ever since.”

“Must be hard, raising those two girls without a mother’s influence or support.”

“Arvin makes sure we have everything we need.” Lenora tries not to sound defensive, she knows that Anne is just trying to be understanding and offer some consolation over their difficult situation, but she won’t have anyone disregarding the work the Arvin has put in to take care of the children that she was foolish enough to have. He’s given everything for them, for no reason other than that they were family.

“Of course he does, honey. He’s a good man. But he’s not your mama.” Lenora shakes her head in agreement. He’s not her mama, but he’s done more than right by her since the day they met, and he took care of those girls from the second that he knew they existed.

**Them**

**Carl looks over at Sandy, adjusts himself in his seat. “What about her?”**

**“Her? Carl, we don’t pick up girls.” There’s a young woman off in the distance, looking nervous and crumpled on the side of the road. She has a tiny bag tucked under her arm and a book in her hand.**

**“Hear me out,” he tells her, fiddling with his camera before he leans forward to tuck it in the glove compartment with a roll of negatives, waiting to be developed. “We pick her up, and then pick up a guy – and them together. Whew. What a picture.” Sandy looks over to frown at him.**

**“Then what, Carl, am _I_ here for?”**

**He shrugs his shoulders. “Aren’t you tired of being such a fucking whore?”**

**She wants to spit on him. But she has to bide her time before she makes a run for it. So, she smiles tightly at him and shrugs her shoulders right back. “What are we gonna do with her, tie her up until we get some guy?”**

**“I was thinking, yeah. Remember that shack we found off the side of the road about five minutes from here?”**

**“What if she runs away?”**

**“What the fuck do you think of me? I’ll tie her up right, she won’t go anywhere.”**

**By this point of the argument, Sandy has pulled the car up next to the young girl. Her eyes are bloodshot from crying and it’s clear her nose has been running. She shuffles, like she doesn’t know if she should get in the car or not, when Carl rolls down the window. Sandy has lost the argument and it’s time to turn on the charm. Her stomach twists and she feels like vomiting. “Hey, sweetheart, you need a lift somewhere?”**

**“Yes, please,” the young girl says.**

**“Where you going, honey?”**

**“Anywhere but here.” She sniffles at that, uses the back of her hand to wipe her nose. Sandy wants to drive away, floor it and burn rubber, but Carl turns to look at her, so that the girl can’t see him when he mouths the word ‘perfect’.**

_Then._

_Arvin thinks it’s a little odd when the guy keeps going on about having to take a leak, but he’s not going to say anything to get himself kicked out of the one vehicle that was willing to stop for him. As the shaky looking lady…Sandy, she said her name was…pulls into the little clearing, he’s glad that he put his gun in the pocket of his pants rather than in his bag. This is some sketchy shit. Carl gets out of the car and he is actually peeing, so Arvin breathes of a sigh of relief. But after a moment, he thinks he hears something, like a far off scream – the howl of a cat or something. He turns to look quizzically at Sandy. She’s shaking worse than he thought, can barely light the match she’s using to get her cigarette going. He thinks of offering her a light, it’s the polite thing to do after all, but he wants to be ready to pull his gun out if he needs to._

_Carl is going on about taking some pictures of the sunset, or something, and Arvin just nods. It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t agree, it’s Carl’s car anyways and the guy took the keys when he got out. Arvin fingers the safety on the gun and swallows. He wonders if he could convince the woman to come with him – she’s a little old, but she could at least give him a ride somewhere. She looks shaken up enough about whatever her partner has planned, she seems like she could be convinced._

_The next couple of minutes seem to pass in a whirlwind. Maybe it’s the shock of the entire day crashing down around Arvin, or maybe they actually do fly right by. Carl pulls out that gun that Arvin’s been watching and points it at him. Arvin takes a shot and then one more, or maybe two. Carl’s flat on his back and Sandy’s pointing a shaky gun at Arvin. He doesn’t want to shoot her, so he pleads with her to lower her weapon, but she refuses, and, in the end, he has no choice. He shoots her, right in the head, and feels like gagging when her brain splatters out against the windshield of the car. He slides out the door and onto the ground, panting and patting his chest, searching for a bullet wound he doesn’t feel. She shot her gun, that much he knows is true, but he can’t find a wound anywhere. He bolts up from the ground and is about to flee when he hears that noise, like a wounded animal, squalling from somewhere._

_He knows he has to run, has to get out of there before the cops show up – drawn to the sound of so many gunshots in the middle of nowhere. But he knows he would always wonder what that sound was, if he didn’t look into it. So Arvin swings his bag over his shoulder, checks his gun and confirms that there’s one bullet left in the clip and one in the chamber. He holds the gun out in front of him and walks towards a little shack, where the noise seems to be coming from. He pushes open the door with his toe and takes a moment to try let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The sound was certainly coming from here, but it wasn’t an animal – it was a human. There’s a naked girl on the floor, her back to him, and she lets out what must be a yelp when she hears the door open. It’s hard to tell, because the sounds she’s making are muffled and she’s curled up in a ball._

_Assuming that the dead people outside are the ones who left her here, Arvin squats down at her level, but waits to roll her over. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” The girl squeaks loudly and her body starts shifting, like she’s trying to roll over. He can see that her ankles are tied together, and her hands must be, too, making it difficult for her to maneuver. He reaches out to help her, his hand on her shoulder where he feels it would be the least indecent, which is laughable considering the situation. He turns her body over and finds Lenora staring back at him, her eyes bloodshot and her mouth stuffed with a cloth gag._

_“Lenora?” he shouts, and she flinches. “Oh my God, Jesus Christ.” Arvin feels his stomach churning, but he ignores the sick feeling and reaches out to pull the gag from her mouth. “What’d they do to you?”_

_“Nothing,” she says, her voice weak. She looks at Arvin’s face for a moment and then her eyes flick down to the dirt floor of the shack. “Not that.”_

_“Let me get you outta here.” He reaches out to untie her wrists – the knots are complicated, but not impossible. Next he undoes her feet and helps her sit up gingerly. “How long have you been here?” he asks, taking off his jean jacket so that she can wrap it around her shoulders. She lifts her knees up, trying to maintain some sense of dignity. There’s some dirt on her face and her hair is a mess, but other than the red marks left on her from the rope and gag, she looks unharmed._

_“I don’t know, since I left home.”_

_“Two days,” he says, reaching out to brush some dirt off of her cheek. “We gotta go. Did they put your stuff somewhere?” He means her clothes, but he also knows that she would have had her bible with her and would be bereft to lose it._

_“In their trunk,” she says. “Arvin, where are they? They said they were gonna bring a man to…have…relations with me. Is it you?” She swallows thickly and begins to cry anew._

_“They’re not a problem anymore. Don’t think about it. I’ll go get your stuff from their car and then we’re leaving. You stay here.”_

_“How did you find me?” she asks, trying to control the sobs that are threatening to take over._

_“Don’t worry about. I’ll be right back.” He hates to leave her there, naked and crying on the floor, but he needs the time to think up a plan. He’s got to get her out of there, but doesn’t want her to see the dead bodies or know what he’s become. He knows he killed because he didn’t have a choice, but it might not seem so black and white for Lenora, who believes in the Lord’s good book and turning the other cheek. He grabs the car keys off of Carl’s dead body. They’re sticky with blood and his fingers slip the first time he tries to open the trunk. He uses his shirt to wipe the bit of blood off of the vehicle from where he touched it and pulls Lenora’s bag and clothes out of the trunk. Her underpants are missing and he has to fight the urge to spit on Carl as he walks back by him. In the shed, he tells Lenora to get dressed and then they’re leaving – on foot._

_“We’ll have to hitchhike,” he tells her. “My car died a ways back.”_

_“Okay,” she says, so trusting. He carries her bag for her and lets her lean on him. Tells her not to look as they walk by the dead bodies. On their way up to the road, she sniffles loudly, sounding like she might sob again. “Don’t you want to know why I left?”_

_“I know,” Arvin says, not looking at her. “I know what happened and we can’t go back home because…because I took care of that preacher for you.” He doesn’t know if he’ll ever tell Lenora that he killed Teagardin, but from her gasp, he thinks she might have figured it out. “And now I’m here to take care of you,” he says, like he planned to find her there in that clearing. And in a way, he did plan to find her, just not quite like that._

_“Arvin, I’m pregnant,” she says, like she doesn’t believe he’d be here if he knew._

_“I know, and we’re gonna raise that baby together.”_

_They don’t talk again – there aren’t any more words that Arvin has to give and Lenora is exhausted from living on fear and shame over the last two days. It doesn’t take long for someone to pull over for them – maybe they feel safer since it’s a girl and a boy. Arvin almost laughs, but instead, thanks the driver as he helps Lenora into the backseat._

_“Where are y’all headed?” the dark-haired man asks._

_“Where are you off to?” Arvin returns._

_“Making my way to Georgia, friend.”_

_“That’s where we’re going too,” Arvin tells him, and he sounds like he had it planned all along._

Now.

The girls had a fine time at the McKinnon’s and, though Lenora’s never been one to toot her own horn, she feels like she did a pretty good job of giving Anne plenty to talk about. When they get back home, Arvin changes out of his church shirt and gets to mowing the lawn right away. With only one day to get the house chores done, he spends most Sundays working, no matter what the Bible says. The girls are in their bedroom playing with their dolls (they just can’t get enough of them) and Lenora has put the leftovers from last night back into the stove to heat up. She’s got a moment of spare time to herself, and so she pulls out her bible, and flips to her favourite passage. It’s hard to choose one, for sure, and there are so many different ones that bring her strength depending on what she needs any given day, but the one that she always finds herself coming back to is Genesis 31:49. “May the Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent from one another.” It’s meant to be a pact between two enemies, that the Lord will watch over them and ensure they keep their promises, but she likes to think of the connection God has created between her and her mama, and now her grandmother, too. Lenora traces the well worn page with her finger and breathes in, like she can smell Grandma’s soap, right there in front of her.

“What’re you doing?” Arvin’s question startles her from her reverie. He’s found her on the kitchen floor, wedged between the icebox and the stove, and he’s looking at her like she’s got two heads. “You okay?” he asks.

“Sorry,” she says, starting to get up. He reaches out to take her hand, help her rise, and accepts. She’s not sure why she apologized, but he doesn’t say anything so maybe he didn’t hear. “Dinner’ll be ready soon,” she tells him, watching him walk away. His undershirt is stained with dirt and sweat. She wonders if he will change before dinner out of respect for her and the girls, or if he’ll abstain and save her from having to wash another article of clothing tomorrow. “Can you tell the girls to wash up?” she calls down the hallway at him. She doesn’t have to be loud – the house is small – Arvin raises his hand in a gesture of confirmation.

Lenora starts humming as she takes the roast out of the oven. There’re a few carrots in there, and an onion too. Some potatoes would’ve rounded out the dish nicely, but there hadn’t been any at the general store when she went shopping on Friday. She’s humming a hymn that her grandmother favoured, and doesn’t realize that Arvin is singing along with her until he’s right behind her. “Thought you didn’t care for hymns?” she teases.

“Doesn’t mean I can get ‘em out of my head.”

She laughs at that, feeling genuinely happy for the first time that day. She’s hopeful – hopeful that the girls will enjoy school, hopeful that she made a good impression on Anne, hopeful that if one tomato could survive, maybe other can, too.

_Then._

_Jake, the driver with dark hair, drops them off in Trenton. He was a kind man, but they’ve been in the car together for over 7 hours and Arvin just wants to sleep. The exhaustion from the last few days caught up with him in the car and it was all he could do to stay awake while Lenora napped in the back seat. “I’ve got a little money,” he says, fishing around in his pants pocket, “not much, ‘cause I left most of it behind. But enough to get a room tonight and then pick a place to stay…for a while.” Lenora just nods, doesn’t say anything, which isn’t really like her. For about the fiftieth time since he found Lenora in a shed, tied up and discarded like trash, Arvin’s heart stutters in his chest. He spent most of the drive to Georgia trying to figure out how he was going to take care of not just Lenora, but her baby, too. He barely kept any money with him, leaving it all with his grandmother out of guilt or responsibility or something else all together. He’ll have to find work immediately, but he can’t join the army – not with a baby on the way and Lenora being as young as she is. She’s watching him silently and he blinks away the thought – he’ll figure it out tomorrow._

_“Jake said that there’s a motel just over here – cheap but clean. Mostly it’s truckers who stay there, but he said ladies are welcome, too.” Jake also told Arvin, while Lenora was asleep, that nobody would look twice at a young and visibly unwed couple in that motel. He doesn’t want her to know that this was their only option._

_“Whatever you think is best,” she tells him. And she sounds like she means it._

_Arvin checks them into the motel and Lenora seems to move through the motions in a kind of daze. He helps her into the bathroom and then leaves her in there with her bag. He wants to get cleaned up, too, but she needs it more. Once she’s done in the bathroom, he’ll take his turn. Until then, he lays down on his bed, trying to block the swirling thoughts from his mind. Just for a moment, he wants to rest. He’s at least half asleep when Lenora comes out of the bathroom, smelling like clean soap and steam, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He’s closer to sleep than not, and so he barely moves when she takes off his shoes for him, dropping each one to the floor with a quiet thud. When Lenora gets into her own bed and he hears the tell tale sniffles that mean she’s crying but doesn’t want him to know, he thinks about getting up and comforting her, but he thinks that might not be what she wants right now._

_They stay in that motel for two more days until Arvin finds a place they can live for a while. Between trying to find work and trying to find a place to stay, his days have been full. Lenora wanted to help, but most of the people in Trenton won’t do business with a woman. Regardless, by their third day in town, Arvin’s found a lady who owns a boarding house and she’s willing to rent them a room. “I know it’s not much,” Arvin says, sitting on one of the single beds in the cramped quarters and feeling ashamed that he couldn’t give his sister something better, “but nowhere else would take an unwed couple.”_

_Lenora says, “It’ll do fine, Arvin,” and puts her hand on his shoulder._

_Jake told him that if they went to the city – to Atlanta – people tended to be more progressive there and they probably wouldn’t get a second look no matter what they were like. But Arvin’s never been to a big city like Atlanta and the idea of living somewhere with professionals and trying to find a job had his heart beating fast. He’s not sure if he’s doing Lenora a disservice by keeping her in a place where he at least has his footing, but he’s been arguing with himself for the last few days and just can’t convince himself to leave Trenton. He doesn’t know how to put all of that into words for Lenora, so instead he just says, “I’ve got a job for the next few months, at least. They’re building a new high school and I got on the bricklaying crew.”_

_“You’ve never laid a brick a day in your life.”_

_“And I never laid blacktop until I got the job doing that. I’ll be fine.”_

_The owner of the boarding house, Mrs. Schnell, takes kindly to Lenora. Rather than leaving her cooped up all day while Arvin is working, she lets Lenora spend time with her. Sometimes, when they’re lying in bed in the dark, about to fall asleep, Lenora tells Arvin about her day with Mrs. Schnell. Arvin likes that about Lenora, that she tells him things without him having to ask – she just lets him lay there with his eyes closed and listen, and as long as he says “mhm” and “sure thing” at all the right parts, she doesn’t get angry at him. Lenora tells him about learning how to save money when making meatloaf by buying the cheap ground beef (it’s extra fatty and has some trimmings in it, but you can’t tell once it’s cooked), and stretching it with a few egg yolks and some crushed up saltines. She tells him that Mrs. Schnell taught her how to patch his jeans so that the patches will last for more than one day at work, and that she’s gentle when she talks. That’s why it comes as a surprise to both of them when, after three months or so, she tells Arvin and Lenora that they need to leave._

_“I’m sorry,” she says, and she sounds like she means it, “but I can’t have an unwed couple having a baby here.”_

_“We’ve barely got any time,” Arvin argues, looking at Lenora’s growing belly._

_“I really am sorry. I can drive you to Hiawassee. My sister has a house there that she said she’d let you rent.” Lenora puts her head in her hands and cries, but Arvin shakes Mrs. Schnell’s hand and the next day he gives his notice at work. They’ve got enough saved for the first month’s rent and some necessities, but if she has the baby too soon, it will be sleeping in a box rather than a crib._

_“Did you tell her?” Arvin asks, when they’re in the car and almost to Hiawassee._

_“Tell her what?” Mrs. Schnell says, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly._

_“That we’re not married?”_

_She doesn’t look at Arvin when she answers him, but she narrows her eyes at the road. “No, but she’ll ask you real soon.”_

_Arvin doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride. He spends the rest of the trip trying to figure out what he’s going to do. They can’t keep getting kicked from boarding house to boarding house – that’s no life for a baby. And while money can sometimes change people’s perspectives, Arvin barely has enough right now to put dinner on the table some nights. Outside of relocating to the city, where he’s terrified to go, Arvin only sees one option for him and his sister. When they get to Hiawassee, it’s just half past noon. Arvin asks Mrs. Schnell to stop at the courthouse and takes Lenora inside. He tells her that they’re going to get married as he’s walking her up to the counter._

_“What?” She sounds like she just stepped on something sharp._

_“It’s not serious, Lenora, but we can’t afford to get kicked out of somewhere again. This is the only way I can keep you and the baby safe.” He looks at her, pleading with her, begging her to go along with the elaborate charade he’s creating. He can only give so much and she’s got a role to play, too. After just a few seconds, she nods her head, simple and quick._

_It’s over fast – they both sign the paper and Arvin says his last name is Willoughby, just like his mama’s, and so that’s Lenora’s last name, now, too. The gentleman behind the counter gives them a look as he stamps the paper and hands it back to Arvin, but he doesn’t say anything. Arvin folds up the paper into quarters and hands it to Lenora. “You keep that,” he says. There’s no ceremony, no celebrating, just Lenora’s shaking hands holding the sheet of paper that says brother and sister are married now. Arvin wants to throw up, he wants to shout, and a small part of himself that he tries to ignore is excited at the prospect of building a life with Lenora and her baby. Instead of giving credence to any of his wishes or feeling, he puts his hand on Lenora’s back and guides her back to Mrs. Schnell’s car. They don’t talk about what happened in the courthouse, but Mrs. Schnell nods at him like he’s done the right thing._

_Hiawassee isn’t so bad. It’s a smaller town than Trenton, and Lenora says she gets lonely while Arvin’s at work, but he’s got a steady job working at the auto shop (“I’ll learn, Lenora,” he told her), and they have four chickens in the backyard that keep them well stocked with eggs. There’s a cat that keeps Lenora company when it’s not out hunting for vermin, and an overgrown garden that keeps her busy for hours at a time. Besides all that, the house has running water and a working gas stove. With their own kitchen and an icebox, Arvin sometimes feels like they’re living in the lap of luxury. They don’t have much furniture to to fill the house other than what their landlady gave them (a bed, a table and three chairs), but with his first paycheque, Arvin buys a cradle for the baby._

_“You shouldn’t have,” Lenora says, watching him situate the furniture in the smaller of the two rooms in the house. She’ll have to crochet a blanket, but there’s no rush. It’s hotter than hot in the summer heat and the baby won’t need a blanket for a while._

_“Wasn’t gonna let the baby sleep on the floor,” he says gruffly, and hopes that she knows he’s joking with her._

_“Now we just need some diapers and we’ll be all set.”_

_“Just diapers?” he asks. Arvin is sure that babies are more expensive than Lenora thinks._

_She waves her hand at him and rubs her belly, which Arvin is sure gets bigger every day. “Sure, there are other things that would be nice, but I’m more worried about what we_ need _than what we want. The rest can come later.”_

_They don’t have much time, though. That evening Lenora is cleaning up the dishes from dinner, Arvin is working on a rotting step on the front porch. He wants to fix it before they bring the baby home because a toddler running around with a step that could fall out from under them doesn’t seem overly safe. He hears something drop inside, the clatter of a metal pan falling to the floor and hops up from where he’s been squatting. He drops the hammer in his hand and is inside the house in two large strides._

_He finds her in the kitchen, by the sink, looking terrified. There’s a puddle of what looks like water around her feet and he doesn’t think it’s dish water. “Lenora?”_

_“It’s time,” she tells him, “the baby’s coming.” She’s got tears in her eyes and her hands are covered in soap suds._

_He doesn’t waste a moment. He goes and gets the bag she packed for the hospital – guided by Mrs. Schnell’s parting advice – and supports her on their way out to the truck. He gently maneuvers Lenora into the backseat so that she can stretch out and then he peels out of the driveway without even locking the front door. “You’re gonna be a mama soon,” he tells her, knuckles white on the steering wheel even though his voice is calm. He’s not sure if his words will excite her or terrify her._

Now.

It’s late on a Thursday night and Lenora is darning Arvin’s socks for what feels like the 15th time. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, trying to fix a wristwatch that George gave him. “It’s broken, but you can have it for free if you can fix it.” Arvin doesn’t know the first thing about fixing a watch, but not knowing has never stopped him from trying. The girls are in bed and Sara is snoring something fierce, just like usual. Lenora starts humming a song that Arvin doesn’t know, but he’s always liked music so he taps his foot with her. After moment, she stops humming and looks up at him, pausing in her darning.

“What is it?” he asks. “Do I have something on my face?”

Lenora laughs and shakes her head. “Did you know we’ve been married for five years?”

Arvin sets his jaw. They don’t talk about it much, being married, except in relation to how townsfolk perceive them. Arvin talks about making sure they fit in properly and act like a real husband and wife, but at home, it never comes up. They’re just brother and sister. She thinks it must really disturb him, the thought of being married to her, for him to look so distraught now that she’s brought it up.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to ruin the genial mood. I was just thinking, since it’s just been the girls’ fifth birthday and we got married so soon before they were born.”

“I remember,” he says shortly.

“I take it back.” She doesn’t want to anger him, just wanted to have some conversation. She thought it could be something funny to think on, but now that she sees the hurt in Arvin’s eyes, she knows it’s still a real sore spot for him.

“You can’t take it back, Lenora,” he says, getting up from the table. “We _have_ been married for five years. This fuckin’ watch is never gonna work.” She watches him pick up the garbage can and sweep the pieces of the watch into it before he stalks down the hall to their bedroom. He closes the door quietly, even though she thinks he might prefer to slam it. Luckily, she just emptied the bin earlier that day, so it’s easy to pick out all of the pieces, just in case he changes his mind later. She puts them on a square of fabric and ties it up, leaving it on top of the icebox. She finishes darning the socks and then follows him to bed.

Arvin’s playing like he’s sleeping, unmoving when she comes into the room, but he’s not breathing steadily like he would in his sleep. So she goes over to his bed and sits on the edge, reaching out for his shoulder. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me and the girls,” she says, feeling like she’s saying the refrain that goes through her head every morning. “I know how much you’ve given up, I didn’t mean to make light of it.”

Arvin doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but she waits patiently with her hand on his shoulder, and eventually, he reaches up and puts his hand over hers. “I do love you,” he says, like she asked him whether or not it was true. “And I love those girls, too.” She’s never questioned that.

“Can you ever forgive me?” she asks. She’s not asking about making a stupid comment tonight, even though it was upsetting to him. She wants to know if she’ll ever have her old brother back, the one who joked with her and danced with her and loved her openly and without abandon. Will she ever feel like she didn’t destroy their relationship?

He squeezes her hand and she hears him nod against his pillow. “There was never anything to forgive.” She wishes she could believe him.

_Then._

_Lenora’s been in labour for the past few hours, and Arvin really starts to worry when her screams seem to be getting quieter from exhaustion. A nurse is passing by him at a leisurely pace, so he reaches out to get her attention. “Excuse me miss, any word on how far along Mrs. Willoughby is?”_

_The nurse looks at him for a moment and then smiles. “She’s your wife?”_

_“Yes ma’am.”_

_“Well, she had a quick first delivery. She’s already on baby number two.”_

_“Number two? How many babies is she having?” Arvin’s voice cracks and he wonders how he’s going to afford_ two _of everything._

_The nurse laughs. “Just two, don’t you worry.”_

_“Do you know what the first one is?”_

_“Yes sir, you’ve got a healthy little baby girl.” The nurse hurries off before Arvin can ask her anything else and he slides back down into the hard metal of the waiting room chair. A baby girl…and another baby on the way. Lord never said life would be easy, but he did say it would be a gift._


End file.
